family back in Warrenton. Is that when it happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Cyl protested. “Not that day, anyhow. We just talked. Then, two weeks ago, he came by the office to ask about a man in his church that he was trying to help. A misdemeanor. It was a Friday afternoon. Everyone else was gone. I pulled the shuck to check the charges. He was reading it over my shoulder. I looked up to say something. Our lips were so close. And then they were touching, and then—”
She broke off but I couldn’t help wondering. Right there on Doug Woodall’s couch?
“We knew it was wrong. But it felt so right.” She sighed and shook her head sadly. “We knew we’d sinned, and we said we’d never do it again. But it was like not knowing how hungry you are till you see the food spread out before you and God help us, Deborah, we were both starving. Touching him. Being touched. It was a banquet. Afterwards, I guess we tried to pretend it was a one-time thing. An aberration. We stayed away from each other for a week and then, Saturday morning . . .”
She fell silent for a long moment and tears pooled again in her large brown eyes. “It was even more wonderful,” she whispered.
I didn’t know Ralph Freeman’s wife except by reputation: a God-fearing, commandment-keeping woman who didn’t trust white people. I did know his children though, an eleven-year-old son and a seven-year-old daughter who was an engaging little gigglebox. Kids like Stan and Lashanda are one more reason I don’t mess with married men.
As if reading my mind, Cyl said, “He has children, a wife, a commitment to Jesus. And he’s right. It could jeopardize my job, too. He can’t—
And she began to cry again.
CHAPTER | 11
Never did a storm work more cruelly.
Stan Freeman finished jotting his morning notes with a sense of growing excitement. Maybe they’d get a little action this far inland after all.
Certainly his parents seemed concerned when he joined them for breakfast. The kitchen radio was tuned to WPTF’s morning weather report. Rain today and more predicted for tomorrow with gusty winds. Unless Hurricane Fran took a sudden sharp turn soon, North Carolina was definitely in for it.
“It’s a biggie,” Stan told them happily. “Almost three hundred miles across. A lot bigger than Bertha and you saw what
“Stanley!” his mother protested.
“Tornadoes?” Lashanda’s eyes widened. “Like Dorothy? Our house will get blown away? Mama?”
“Your brother’s talking about ’way down at the coast,” Clara said with soothing tones for her daughter and a warning glare for her son. “That’s a long way away. And it seems to me, Stanley, that you should be praying the storm passes by instead of hoping it hits and causes so many people grief.”
“I’m not wishing them grief, Mama,” he protested as the phone rang and his father got up to answer. “I’m just telling you what the weather reports say. I have to keep up with it for my science project. You want me to get a good grade, don’t you?”
As he knew it would, citing school as a justification for his excitement somewhat mitigated her displeasure.
“Don’t worry, Shandy,” he told his little sister. “We’ll be safe this far inland.”
A drop of milk splashed on Lashanda’s skirt and she jumped up immediately for a wet cloth to sponge it off. She was wearing her Brownie uniform since they were meeting immediately after school.
His father hung up the phone and came back to the table. “That was Brother Todd. He and the other deacons think we ought to cancel prayer meeting tonight, and spend the evening taking down the tent. The canvas is so rain-soaked that it’s dripping through. One strong gust could send it halfway to Raleigh.”
“When will you start?” asked Stan. “After school? I can help, can’t I?”
“Me, too,” said Lashanda.
“You’re too little,” Clara told her. “Besides, that’s men’s work.”
“It’s not fair!” Lashanda’s big brown eyes started to puddle up. “Boys get to have all the fun.”
“I thought we agreed not to stereotype gender roles,” Ralph said mildly.
Clara’s tone was three shades colder. “Wrestling with a tent in the wind and rain is not appropriate for a little girl.”
“Or a little boy either,” he said with a smile for his daughter. “But I bet we can find something that
